


I would but I'm wounded.

by jodoesntknow



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood Drinking, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Werewolves, cause why not, they're called blood wolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jodoesntknow/pseuds/jodoesntknow
Summary: "Dan ran as fast as he could, panting desperately. Every step was a reminder that his legs had been burning for a while and he wouldn’t last much longer."
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	I would but I'm wounded.

Dan ran as fast as he could, panting desperately. Every step was a reminder that his legs had been burning for a while and he wouldn’t last much longer. He made a sharp turn and looked over his shoulder, searching between old buildings and feeling relieved to see he managed to throw them off for a bit.

He felt exhausted, emotionally, and physically. It was hard enough to get by, but seeing himself and everyone else get chased and hunted like animals sucked the life out of him, pun not intended. Nonetheless, his only choice was survival, so he told himself to keep going, over and over.

The echo of a woman’s piercing scream.  _ Keep going _ .

A blood wolf’s sharp teeth stabbing a bloody body’s neck. _Keep_ _going_.

His hand forcefully gripping a small fidgety bunny, its shiny desperate eyes overpowered by his two-day hunger.  _ Keep going _ .

His knee buckled and he fell on the tar, the growling getting closer and louder than the heartbeat pulsing in his ears. He forced himself to get up and frantically searched for a house with an open door, or anything where he could hide. He could go into the sewers for all he cared.

Okay, maybe not the sewers. The last time he hid there the smell followed him for days.

He ran towards a deserted street where most of the houses were closed or destroyed, but one of them, small and sad looking, had the door wide open. He didn’t even think twice before getting in, quickly looking around to make sure no blood wolves decided to lay around and take a nap inside. He deemed it clean and slammed the door shut, looking for the heaviest looking cabinets he could find to barricade it. He pushed three of them as fast as he could with trembling arms to cover as much of the door’s frame as possible and rested against them. 

Dan slid to the floor and rested his head against one of the cabinets, catching his breath and listening to the thump of the blood wolves’ bodies against the door. He stayed there, forcing himself to stay awake and vigilant, making sure the monsters' thirst had made them weak and unenabled them to tear everything down.

Hours must have passed when the noise stopped, his body no longer shaking with the force of their hits. 

He knew he should search the house to make sure it was safe before he went to sleep, so he sighed and heavily got up, grabbing the knife hanging on his belt loop with a tight grip.  He was in a messy living room connected to a small kitchen, the windows partially covered by wooden planks, barely illuminating the space but enough to make out the bloodstains on the wooden floor. He stared at them and wondered what happened to the people who lived there. If they were okay. If that was their blood. If he had to fear what he would find behind the open arch leading to a tiny hallway with two doors, both closed. 

He passed a dusty couch and a broken table, pieces of glass crunching under his muddy boots as he opened the first door to reveal a stained bathroom. He sighed in relief, his eyes meeting a lonely soap bar resting on the bathtub support. God, he hoped this house had running water, cause he couldn’t remember the last time he used soap.

Dan moved on to the second door and froze as soon as it opened, a feeling of dread overcoming his body. Next to a rumpled queen-sized bed was a man as tall as him, standing in a fighting position, eyes red and claws out. A blood wolf. A thirsty blood wolf. Fuck, he was dead.

“Leave.”, the man growled.

“What?”, Dan asked, stupidly. Why wasn’t he being killed? By this creature with fangs and a fucking messy quiff?

“Leave, now.”, he repeated, his tone deep and threatening. 

The man swallowed, his breaths loud in the small room, and his complexion pale and sickly. Dan felt the weight of the knife on his hand, considering his options. The man wouldn’t die unless he stabbed his heart, but a) he wouldn’t be able to do that without getting bitten and b) he really didn’t want to do it if he had another option. However, blood wolves were reckless creatures, moved by their blind thirst for human blood, the product of a werewolf experiment gone wrong, and this man shouldn't be able to hold back when his eyes revealed how hungry he was, let alone talk to him. Dan was sure of that, he encountered enough blood wolves to make a fucking academic study about them.

“We’re surrounded by blood wolves. If I leave, I’ll die.”, he answered slowly, trying not to startle him.

The man closed his eyes tightly and swayed on his feet, as if standing took all his strength. 

“Okay.”, he murmured with urgency. “Okay. Then leave the room and lock the door.”

Dan snorted sarcastically, lifting his visibly trembling knife in defense. His heart was beating like crazy, there was no way this guy couldn’t hear it. There was no way he could resist his impulses, like every other feral creature of his kind. Right?

“As if that’s going to stop you.”

“Fuck.”, the guy swore, swallowing again. “It is. I haven’t eaten in a week, I’m weak. I won’t be able to break the door, but I'll hurt you if you stay here, so please,  _ leave. _ ”

Dan didn't move, searching his expression for something, anything that showed him he was lying. But he seemed honest and looked as rough as Dan felt, maybe even worse. He was also kind of pretty, Dan thought distantly, for someone who was staring at him simultaneously as someone who killed his puppy and a five-star hotel buffet. 

Making up his mind, he walked backward, brown eyes fixed on red pleading ones. And as he closed the door and turned the rusty key with trembling hands, a chilling thought came to him:

_ This could've been the end. _

**Author's Note:**

> Look, werewolves and vampires are cool, so why not mix them together?  
> God help me.
> 
> I hope you like this, and please tell me if you see any mistakes! Any feedback is very welcome.
> 
> Title from the song Hurt Me, by Keaton Henson.


End file.
